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Her dying image was that of her daughter cowered in the corner between the toilet and the shower, eyes wide and fixed, mouth hanging agape, frozen in a scream caused by God knows what.
“Yes, she did,” Matt said. “She was one of my star pupils.” Casey’s brow furrowed with obvious confusion. Uh oh. She was a dumbass.
The yellow light illuminated the hallway to show Mikey crawling across the ceiling and back to his bedroom.
Conehead was standing on his hind legs staring straight at Matt, grinning ear to ear.
He stepped onto the porch and approached the garage door’s keypad. He pressed “1-4-0-8” and then ENTER.
Book refrence by Stephen King
